A blush stained her cheeks as she realized that Edmond’s dark, knowing gaze had not missed the emotions flitting over her expressive features, and that he was well aware of her thoughts.
“Really, Edmond, you cannot simply walk into my private rooms,” she snapped, annoyed that she was flustered by a mere glance.
The dark gaze never wavered from her flushed countenance. “Leave us,” he commanded the hovering maid.
Predictably, Janet refused to budge until Brianna gave a slow nod of her head.
“It is fine, Janet.”
Janet offered Edmond an evil glare as she strode toward the door. “Oh, aye. It had best be fine, or you’ll be answering to me,” she muttered.
A dark brow arched in genuine astonishment. “Did your maid just threaten me?”
“Yes, I believe she did.”
“And just what does a female half my size and weight believe she can do to me?”
“Do not underestimate my maid, Edmond. Janet is not only cunning, but she happens to be the daughter of one of the most feared criminal lords in all of London. I do not doubt she could call upon any number of ruffians to do her bidding.”
He appeared more curious than terrified by her dire words. “Then why did she not call upon them to do away with Thomas Wade?”
Brianna wrapped her arms around her waist, shuddering at the mention of her stepfather, remembering how terribly tempting it had been to give in to Janet’s urging to have Thomas murdered in his sleep.
“Because I refused to allow her to do so,” she confessed, her voice hoarse.
“Why?”
“If I desired Thomas Wade’s head mashed in, then I should have done it myself. Why should someone else risk the gallows for me?”
“So independent, ma souris?” he drawled, prowling forward.
Her chin tilted at his hint of mockery. “I have discovered that it is far too dangerous to be anything but independent. Thankfully I will soon be able to claim my inheritance and I shall never be under the authority of another again.” Her gaze was steady. “I cannot wait for that day.”
“Your inheritance?”
“Yes.” She gave a lift of her shoulder. “My father left a portion of my dowry in funds that could not be touched by my mother. I shall be able to access the money when I turn three and twenty. ’Tis not a large amount by the Duke of Huntley’s standards, but it will be enough to allow me to rent a modest home and keep a staff.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Janet and I will at last be safe.”
The hint of amusement vanished from his dark eyes, almost as if he were annoyed by her response.
“That is absurd,” he gritted. “Not everyone intends you harm.”
“Perhaps not harm, but everyone is certainly anxious to use me for their own purpose.” She deliberately paused. “You included, Edmond.”
The aquiline nose flared, the dark eyes smoldering with a dangerous emotion.
“Ah, yes, my nefarious purpose.” He pointed a finger toward the chair directly before her dressing table. “Have a seat.”
“Why?”
“You are here to do my bidding, are you not?” He stepped closer. “Now, have a seat.”
“Fine.” Refusing to indulge in a struggle she was destined to lose, Brianna turned to the chair and sat down with an angry flounce. “Someday, Edmond, you are going to encounter someone you cannot bully and—” Her words were wrenched away as Edmond moved directly behind her and she felt a cool weight gliding over her skin. Glancing in the mirror, her breath tangled in her throat at the brilliant flash of gemstones that encircled her neck. “Good Lord.” Her gaze lifted to study Edmond’s reflection. “These are the Huntley emeralds.”
His face was unreadable as his fingers stroked the bare slope of her shoulders.
Her hand lifted to touch the priceless jewels, her heart giving an odd twist of pain. Deep in her soul, she knew that the gems and all they represented were intended for another woman. The sort of woman who could offer the grace and poise that the position of Duchess of Huntley demanded. The sort of woman she could never be.
“No, this is not right. I cannot wear these,” she whispered, not comprehending why she should be battling an absurd desire to cry.
His stirring temper flared at her soft refusal. “The setting is a bit old-fashioned, I will grant you, but they are still the finest collection of emeralds in all of England,” he said, the lethal edge in his tone stirring the hair on the nape of her neck. “There are few women who would balk at wearing them around their neck. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
She grimly refused to wilt beneath the smoldering displeasure. Even as a young gentleman, Edmond had made a habit of bending others to his will by the simple force of his personality. The only way to keep from being swept along the tidal wave of his power was to dig in her heels and refuse to budge.
It was something she was rather good at.
“They are nothing less than perfect, Edmond, as you well know.” Rising to her feet, she turned to confront him squarely. “But these are for the next Duchess of Huntley, not some mere pretender. It would be wrong for anyone but Stefan’s wife to be seen in them.”
“They are stones, ma souris, they will hardly care whether you are destined to be the future Duchess of Huntley or not,” he mocked.
“No, but all of society will recall seeing them upon me. It would tarnish them for Stefan’s future wife.”
“Tarnish them?”
“Yes.”
“You…” With an obvious effort, Edmond controlled his flare of temper, and with an exaggerated bow, he turned to head for the door. “Since I cannot decide whether to strangle you or bed you, I shall instead leave you to finish your dressing. Please be good enough to join me in the foyer when you are done.”
HIDING IN THE SHADOWS of the upper landing, Janet watched as Edmond Summerville settled a beaded cashmere shawl around the shoulders of her mistress.
The lean male body appeared to be tense with a tightly coiled anger, but his hands were remarkably gentle as he stroked Brianna’s arms, his head lowered as if attempting to breathe in the scent of his delicate companion.
Janet was well aware that Lord Edmond’s manner toward his brother’s ward had been overly intimate from the moment they had entered the town house. There could be no doubt he had every intention of trying to seduce her, and judging by Brianna’s reaction to the handsome gentleman, he might very well accomplish his goal.
But Janet was more bothered when she witnessed Lord Edmond glare at the footman who stepped forward to assist Brianna when she dropped her painted ivory fan. He was possessive, almost aggressively so, as if he considered her his personal property.
Which was far more dangerous than mere lust.
Wondering if they had managed to leap from the frying pan into the fire, Janet was caught off guard when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind and hauled her back from the balustrade.
“And what do you think you’re doing spying upon my master?” a rumbling male voice demanded against her ear.
Janet twisted until she could face her large captor, lifting her hand to smack against the hard, massive chest.
“Oh, stop that,” she hissed.
Clearly expecting a very different reaction, Boris dropped his arms.
“Stop what?”
“Pretending that ye can barely speak English.” She folded her arms over her chest, struggling not to notice the flutter of her heart as the candlelight played over his strong features. Her father had taught her from the cradle never to be swayed by a handsome face or pair of pretty eyes, even if they were the exact shade of a cloudless sky. “I may be from the stews but I ain’t stupid,” she warned, her lips thinning with annoyance at his attempt to deceive her. “I know an educated gent, especially one who happens to be a soldier, when one crosses me path.”
He stilled, his eyes narrowing. “Do you?”
“Aye.”
He leaned downward, his breath brushing h
er cheek in a warm caress. “It can oft times be dangerous to see too much.”
“Is that a threat?” she demanded even as she shivered in pleasure.
“Are you frightened?” he asked, his accent not nearly so thick.
Janet tilted her chin with a sniff. “By the likes of you? Bah. I’ve faced cutthroats that could make you weep in fear. Me own father is one.”
His lips twitched with grudging amusement as he straightened and peered down the length of his nose at her stubborn face.
“You did not answer my question,” he said. “Why are you spying on my master?”
She saw no reason to lie. “I don’t happen to trust Lord Edmond Summerville.”
“You question his honor?”
“I question the way he looks at Miss Quinn.”
“They way he looks at her?”
“As if he intends something wicked.”
“She is a beautiful woman. Of course he intends something wicked.”
“If that’s meant to be amusing, it falls short of the mark.”
His hard features softened as Boris stepped forward and allowed his hands to lightly trail down her arms. “What man would not intend something wicked when he is offered such temptation?”
“Here now, ye watch yer hands or—”
Her brave words were brought to an effective end as Boris abruptly yanked her forward and crushed her lips in a kiss that made her toes curl in sweet anticipation.
EDMOND STUDIED BRIANNA from across the crowded salon, his body predictably hard with frustrated longing. Even surrounded by London’s most famous beauties, she managed to glow with a stunning splendor that would steal the wits of any gentleman.
Of course, her newfound sophistication did nothing to soften her prickly personality, he wryly acknowledged, recalling their earlier confrontation.
At the time, he had been besieged by a confusion of emotions that all battled for supremacy. Fury that she would dare to defy his wishes. A sharp, aching desire to pull her into his arms and damn the rest of the world to Jericho.
And a fierce satisfaction at the knowledge that she possessed no deep longing for Stefan’s jewels.
It was that last emotion that disturbed him. Fury and frustrated desire were common enough when in Brianna’s presence. Christ, they plagued him even when he wasn’t in her presence. A fact he had discovered during the past three days of doing everything possible to avoid her company.
But why should he be pleased that she could readily dismiss the undoubted temptations that came part and parcel with the position of Duchess of Huntley?
“Ah, there you are, your Grace.”
The curvaceous brunette, wearing a dress of Pomona green edged in velvet and sparkling with diamonds, halted at Edmond’s side. Handsome rather than pretty, Lady Montgomery was the most skilled of all the London political hostesses. Indeed, no one doubted that Lord Montgomery’s position in the government was entirely due to her efforts.
Edmond offered a faint dip of his head.
“Lady Montgomery.”
The teasing smile on her full lips didn’t hide the curiosity that shimmered deep in her eyes.
“I am not entirely sure how I can ever thank you,” she murmured.
“Thank me?”
“Your presence at my humble soiree has ensured that my position among society has increased significantly. There will not be a hostess in all of London who is not gnashing her teeth in envy that you chose to introduce your fiancée beneath my roof.”
Edmond did not miss the woman’s air of smug pleasure at having accomplished such a coup.
“Any gratitude must go to my aunt.” He turned his head to regard the elegant woman who hovered protectively at Brianna’s side, ready to steer her young charge through the dangerous waters of society with smooth efficiency. “She assured me that Miss Quinn would be made to feel welcome among your guests.”
“But, of course, Miss Quinn will be made welcome.” Lady Montgomery flashed him a covert glance. “A truly lovely young lady. And such charming manners. ’Tis no wonder she managed to steal your elusive heart, your Grace.”
Edmond smiled, enjoying the pleasurable heat that raced through his body as his gaze returned to linger on his fiancée.
“She is exquisite.”
Lady Montgomery flicked her painted gauze fan open with a practiced motion. “It is a pity about her mother’s marriage to that…” There was a delicate pause. “Nasty tradesman, of course. There are bound to be a few vicious tongues that will remind the ton of that unfortunate connection, I fear.”
“They would be wise to direct their vicious tongues toward topics that do not include Miss Quinn,” he replied, his tone edged with an unmistakable warning. “My family would be most displeased with anyone who breathed the name of Thomas Wade and my fiancée in the same sentence.” A layer of ice coated his voice. “Indeed, as far as I am concerned, Thomas Wade no longer exists.”
“Ah, yes. Yes, I see.” Lady Montgomery appeared temporarily startled by the formidable power that smoldered about the usually placid Duke of Huntley, then she gave a rueful laugh. “For a gentleman who rarely mingles among society, your Grace, you do possess a remarkable talent for comprehending how to bend us to your will.”
“My only desire is to ensure that Miss Quinn is judged upon her own fine merits, not upon the unfortunate choices of her mother.” His expression unwittingly softened, his gaze sweeping over Brianna’s delicate profile. “She has suffered enough for Sylvia’s weaknesses.”
Something that might have been surprise rippled over Lady Montgomery’s handsome features before she regained her practiced smile.
“Quite understandable. It was wise to choose Lady Aberlane to sponsor her into society.”
“Aunt Letty would never have forgiven me had I chosen someone else to stand as Miss Quinn’s sponsor.”
Lady Montgomery gave a charming laugh. “That is true enough.” Her head tilted to one side. “But why would you insist on having your cousin included?”
Edmond absently toyed with his brother’s heavy gold signet ring, which he had slipped on before leaving the town house. He had known it was bound to create a stir of curiosity when he had sent the note to Lady Montgomery requesting the presence of Howard Summerville at the soiree. Still, it was worth any raised brows for the opportunity to witness his beloved cousin’s reaction to his engagement firsthand.
“As much as I regret the notion, they are family,” he said, his tone dismissive.
Lady Montgomery was far from satisfied. “Yes, but the estrangement between you has been well-known for years. No one would have thought it odd if you had chosen to exclude him from the guest list.”
Edmond gave a vague lift of his shoulder. “My fiancée possesses a far kinder heart than either my brother or myself. She dislikes the notion of a rift in the family.”
“Ah.”
Having endured enough of the less than subtle probing, Edmond tilted his head toward the thin, swarthy gentleman in a far corner who was drinking the expensive champagne as if it were cheap gin.
“With that thought in mind, I suppose I had best seek out my cousin and extend a hand of peace.” He dipped his head toward his hostess. “If you will excuse me?”
Lady Montgomery smiled, although her speculative expression lingered. “Of course.”
Shrugging aside the woman’s curiosity, Edmond moved smoothly across the pale rose and ivory room, occasionally nodding toward the more powerful gentlemen who circled the room, and firmly ignoring the inviting glances from their wives. Edmond might readily enjoy the delectable attentions of a bored wife; Stefan, however, would never take a married woman to his bed.
CHAPTER TEN
PROPPED AGAINST SATIN WALL panels, Howard Summerville, his dark hair already tousled and his cravat drooping, was blearily eying the passing guests. Edmond frowned as he halted at the man’s side, acknowledging that his cousin appeared more pathetic than dangerous.
Of course, looks quit
e often were deceiving.
He had encountered women with the faces of angels who would happily slide a dagger in his back.
“Good evening, Howard,” he murmured.
With an obvious effort, Summerville focused his gaze on the towering Edmond.
“Oh. There you are, Huntley,” he slurred.
“So I am.”
After a brief struggle with gravity, the gentleman managed to push himself away from the wall, his narrow face flushed, and his dark eyes glittering with a hectic light.
“You have some bloody nerve,” he growled. “I have half a mind to plant you a facer.”
Ah. Edmond hid a pleased smile. This was the reaction he had been hoping to provoke.
“I should be a great deal more concerned if you were not so cast to the wind you can barely stand, Howard,” he mocked.
The flush deepened with anger. “If I am, it is entirely your fault.”
“My powers are even greater than I ever suspected.” Edmond flicked a dismissive glance over his cousin’s rumpled attire. “I had no notion I could force a gentleman into his cups from across the entire width of a room.”
“Ha.” Howard waved his arm, nearly toppling over a terracotta bust of Charles II. “You know quite well why I am furious with you.”
Edmond grasped the fool by the elbow and steered him toward the French doors leading onto a narrow balcony.
“Perhaps we should discuss this someplace where we can speak without creating fodder for the rumormongers.”
“There is a library…”
“Actually, I prefer the balcony.” Edmond continued to chart a ruthless course past the startled guests.
“The balcony.” Howard stumbled over his feet, only kept upright by Edmond’s firm grip. “Damnation, Huntley, it is freezing out there.”
“Perhaps it will help to clear your muddled brain.” Edmond cursed as his cousin nearly tumbled them both over a rosewood stool. “Not that it would make a great deal of difference,” he muttered.
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